Noldolantë
by Inka Lakhala
Summary: NOT Slash. The Kinslaying of Alqualondë through the eyes of one of the Teleri.


Title: Noldolantë 2nd draft; small modification following suggestion from a reviewer.  
  
I loosed another arrow, but to no avail. It found its mark, but what use was one arrow amongst a thousand swords?  
  
They swarmed on to our ships, pouring over the white decks. Never had I seen such madness in the eyes of my kin.  
  
The range of my bow was not enough; by the time I could hit them, they were already upon the gunwales of our graceful craft. A clear voice behind me, our captain, called for someone to release the moorings. Someone started to obey, but the ship was not fully loosed before what seemed then like a hundred armed Noldor charged on to the gangplank. We had to protect ourselves from our own kin, driven to frenzy by the arrogant words of Finwe's son, falling upon – in some cases – lovers, brothers and sisters by marriage, even close cousins by blood.  
  
What lies had been whispered, that would incite them to murder? My hand shook as I drew back the bowstring once more, and the arrow went wide. The harbour was black with their dark heads, red with my people's blood, and silver with the flash of Noldorin blades. In the dim light of the dead sky, no longer lit with the gentle radiance of the Trees, it was a frightening sight to behold.  
  
My brother had brought his wife and young daughter that day to see his new ship; they were still aboard when the attack came. It was the third advance of Fëanor's people that had brought the Noldor as far as the small yacht. My brother's slender white bow held off the tide of Kinslayers for but a few short moments, then he fell, turning the deck crimson beneath him. His wife, who had herself woven the sails of the craft, sails that arced like swan wings above their heads, took up her husband's bow and quiver, releasing arrows in a deadly rain upon the Noldor, keeping her child close.  
  
I tried to protect them, but my captain was forced to retract our gangplank and there was no way off our ship. I could only try to pick off as many of the advancing Noldor as I could target. Tears ran down my face, blurring my vision; even as they slaughtered my people without hesitation or remorse, it tore my heart apart each time I saw another Noldo collapse with one of my arrows sunk into his chest. I did not want to shoot another Elda, but nor could I bear to leave my sister-in-law to die at their hands.  
  
I could not protect her in the end. I watched my failure through eyes blurred with crying.  
  
I watched them approach her. I watched the sword cut into her. I watched a beautiful, kind and caring woman be murdered by one I had once thought of as a friend. He turned to her daughter. I heard my own voice scream protest – I could not envision an Elda ruthless enough to butcher a small child. But some small trickle of conscience must have penetrated his madness, for he picked her up and hurriedly lowered her to the dry ground of the harbour before beckoning his fellows aboard.  
  
Panicked, the child ran into the fray, and I held out no hope that she would survive.  
  
My captain shouted once more – I was neglecting my duties, the ship was pushing off; he needed fire to cover the mate who was releasing the final tether. I dashed across deck, forcing my breath to shop shuddering. I aimed and shot, as I was ordered, until I reached once more into my quiver and my hand met only air.  
  
Angrily, I ripped it from my shoulder and cast it to the deck. And as I let my bow drop from a hand that had gone limp with resignation, I saw, once more, a small, slight figure in a bloodstained dress, darting in among the frenzied Noldor.  
  
An Elf on the shore also spotted her, and ran at her, his sword cutting arcs in the air before him. What demon had stolen his mind that he would purposely chase after a small child with such bloodlust burning in his dark eyes? Appalled, I tore off my cloak and dived into the sea.  
  
I had grown up here; I was a strong swimmer and I closed the small distance between the child and me in a few moments. In the darkness following the death of the Trees, no-one could pick out my head in the water. I called to her in Telerin, and she turned towards me. I called again, hoping she wound recognise my voice, and she did. "Jump!" I urged. "I will catch you."  
  
She leaped into the water, and I caught her up in my arms, supporting her head. Holding her securely, I began to swim back towards the boat. Noldor on the shore screamed at us, but unlike us, they had a love for the sea but no respect for it. Few of the Noldor in Aman ever learned to swim in the sea's fickle waters.  
  
The water made a hollow slap as it lapped at the sides of the ship, and my fingers clawed at the wooden hull. A rope ladder was thrown down to us, and I clung to it with one hand as I clung to the child with the other. Waterlogged and terrified, she was so heavy; I struggled with the twin challenges of the unstable rope ladder and the shivering girl.  
  
The deck was so far above us – I kept on climbing, rung by rung, my body sustaining new bruises each time we were swung against the hull by the growing wind. But we were alive, and that was more than could be said for so many of our kin.  
  
Finally, a hand appeared before me, slim and pale and wiry. I grasped it, and with a heave of effort, we were pulled aboard, collapsing, spluttering and exhausted, on the ship's deck.  
  
The Noldor may claim the other ships, but they would not have ours. Our crew was assorted and perhaps not the most renowned of the Teleri, but we were proud of our ship, and proud of our people. We looked after each other. Haunted eyes, shadowed with the recent horror, were now set off by tired but glowing smiles.  
  
The captain cleared his throat. "We shall not abandon our kin. Let her sail no further; it may be that some of our cousins have sought safety in the sea. If so, we must find them and bring them to safety. Let it never be said that we stood by and watched our kin be slain whilst we did nothing!"  
  
We turned back to the west, where once a warm, inviting radiance had beckoned to us as we returned from voyages, and now only inky darkness hung, and began to scan the black water for a glimpse of silver hair... 


End file.
